


Not Alone, Not Afraid

by SupernaturalPhoenix



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen, everything is fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 04:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13069287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPhoenix/pseuds/SupernaturalPhoenix
Summary: Azazel gets sick and due to his insecurities, doesn't tell anyone. When his friends find out, the team is brought closer together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, the group was never founded on the need to fight Shaw. Riptide and Azazel were found in the same way all the others were. So yeah... no one is evil and no one died and stuff......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've just made Azazel basically my OC for this one, just because. I have kinda Loki-fied him: made him much more a tortured soul than a real villian.

Azazel felt dreadful. He'd rather stay in his room, lest be exposed to the ever-changing temperatures outside. But, communal meals were an integral part of the Xavier mansion. And he did so want to stay, here he had friends. He liked Hank McCoy, Darwin, Charles Xavier and Janos Quested especially. And the others were growing upon him as well.

He didn't want to seem needy or ungrateful for everything that he'd been given. So, he teleported downstairs. It made him feel sick and tired in a way that didn't happen very often but he hated none the less.

"Hey, Azazel." Alex Summers greeted cheerfully.

Azazel nodded in response, not having the voice for a verbal greeting. They both walked into the dinning room and took their places. Once everyone was seated, the platters of food were passed around. Azazel was known for not having large portions but today, he barely took anything. And, of course, someone had to notice.

"Azazel, is that enough?" Charles Xavier asked kindly. "There's plenty to go around."

Azazel nodded cautiously, afraid of fueling the headache starting to bloom. "This is fine."

Darwin spoke up. "If you don't like it, we can get you something."

Azazel shook his head again. "I am not hungry."

"Did you even have lunch? How are you not hungry?" Angel asked.

Everyone was staring at him and he hated it. Glancing nervously around, he teleported away.

"What was that about?" Sean asked.

No one could answer.

.....................................................................................................................................................................

Azazel teleported messily onto the floor in his room. Being the sole focus of attention like that made him panicy, which was making him feel worse than he already did. Pulling himself up from the floor, he staggered over to his bed and collapsed onto it. As time went on, he got cold but didn't have the energy to move under the covers.

There came a knock on his door.

Azazel forced himself to limp to the door. He sagged against the doorframe and opened the door. Janos Quested stood there, a plate of food in his hand. It was Azazel's favourite new variety since living in the mansion.

"You have to eat." Janos said. "Or you'll exhaust yourself teleporting."

Not having the energy to get out gracefully, Azazel just nodded. "I appreciate the gesture." he took the plate and slunk back into his room. Janos hadn't given him very much, but it was still sickening. Still, the wind controller had made a fair point: without energy, teleporting would drain him quickly. This time, he managed to get under the covers and picked at the food.

After a few minutes, he'd barely made a dent in the portion. The awful feeling in the back of his throat was building. Suddenly, he dropped the plate and teleported into the bathroom.

Once he'd thrown up everything in his system, he shakily cleaned himself up and teleported back into bed. There, he fell asleep and didn't wake for the rest of the night.

...................................................................................................................................................

"Azazel!"

Someone was shaking him.

_"Azazel!"_

The voice didn't sound venomous like it usually did. But it was familiar.

" _Azazel, get up_!"

Azazel's eyes snapped open, preparing himself, just in case.

Raven stood there, arms folded, huffing at him. "We've got training. Do you want a quick breakfast now or wait until we're finished?"

Azazel's mind flashed back to the previous evening. He felt sick thinking about any of it. "I'll wait."

Raven left the room to allow the red mutant to dress. Then he teleported both of them down to the lawn where everyone else was training. Raven went to help Angel and Charles greeted Azazel in his usual cheery manner.

"I was hoping to work on your teleporting." the telepath said by way of explaination.

Azazel nodded. "I don't mind."

A childlike curiosity sparked in Charles's eyes at this. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to have an idea of how many teleports you can make at once."

"I don't know. It all depends on the distance." Azazel explained.

Charles nodded eagerly. "I was hoping to start with some short distances.  Just a few metres. Is that alright?"

Azazel nodded and teleported away from Charles, who began counting. Azazel teleported a large circle around Charles. But, with each one, more of his strength was drained. But he kept going. The amazement of the telepath reminded him just how much he wanted to stay here, with friends. However, when he got to teleport 36, he was shaking like a leaf and gasping for breath. But Charles was to far away to see and to polite to read Azazel's mind. Despite the building heat he felt, Azazel flickered again, much more strained. As he reappeared for a 37th time, he crumpled to the ground.

Charles's encouragement died in his throat. "Azazel?"

The red mutant didn't move.

"Azazel!" Charles sprinted to his side. He shook Azazel's shoulder. Azazel groaned feebly but didn't wake.

' _Hank!_ ' the professor called mentally. The blue mutant raced over, Janos on his heels. They both dropped to the ground next to Charles and Azazel.

"What happened?" Hank asked.

"I don't know. He was teleporting and then he collapsed. I'm worried it was more than he could take." Charles explained hurriedly.

Janos brushed his hand on Azazel's face. "He is burning up."

Hank felt the crimson skin as well. "We need to get him inside." Very gently, he scooped Azazel into his arms, carrying him inside.

' _Raven, keep training_.' Charles ordered as he and Janos followed Hank.

................................................................................................................................................................

Hank laid Azazel across the medical bed in his lab and covered him in a blanket, carefully moving his tail over the edge so it wasn't crushed. Hank didn't know how sensitive it was. Sean had made the mistake of pulling it once. Azazel had reacted badly: he'd teleported to the other side of the room, hissing and growling. Darwin had managed to calm him down and Azazel had been most apologetic, explaining that he really didn't like people playing with his tail because it pulled on his spine, which sounded painful. Erik had been very strange about the whole thing, nodding as though he'd proven something.

Azazel mumbled in his sleep, bringing Hank back to reality. "I can't be sure until he wakes up," Hank began to Charles and Janos, "but I think he may have the flu or something, with the fever and no appetite."

Charles nodded. "Possibly. But he must have been feeling ill for a while. Wouldn't he have said something?"

"Azazel doesn't like to complain." Janos said quietly. "If he is ill as you say, he would stay quiet."

Charles and Hank looked at him.

Janos continued. "Azazel is afraid to seem ungrateful or abuse your hospitality."

Hank took something from the shelf. "This should help with his fever when he wakes up."

Charles sighed. "And we must convince our friend that there's no need to hide his pain."

........................................................................................................................................................

 Azazel groaned, rolling onto his side to take the pressure of the base of his tail. But the sudden movement caused bile to rise in his throat. He propped himself up desperately on his arms, shaking. He prepared to teleport but someone put a bucket beneath him just in time. Azazel heaved and someone rubbed circles on his back. It felt nice. Gasping, he looked into the face of Charles.

Charles pulled the bucket away and helped Azazel lie down again. "How are you feeling?" the telepath asked.

Azazel thought for a moment, checking his English was correct. "I am well. I apologise for my actions this morning."

"Azazel, you collapsed because you're ill and you wore yourself out. If anyone should apologise, it should be me. I pushed you and I didn't notice you weren't well." Charles said softly, merciful on Azazel's pounding head.

"I do not understand. Why are you apologising to me?" Azazel asked. "It is kind that you do not invade the thoughts of those around you."

Charles shook his head. "I didn't realise you felt that you couldn't speak to anyone about your problems."

Azazel shrugged. "It is an old instinct. This is the safest place I have ever lived, but it is hard to let those walls down." His sentence ended in a pained sigh and he sank deeper into the bed.

 Charles recognized something in Azazel that he'd seen in Erik. But he didn't comment. "Hank thinks you've got the flu."

Azazel looked up at him, a confused look on his face. "The... what?"

"It's a very common illness, especially in America. It lasts about a week. Have you never had it before?" Charles explained.

Azazel shook his head slightly. His head hurt.

Charles went on. "You've got a fever of 35 degrees celscius. That'll keep you in bed for a while. You don't have to stay here, you can go back to your room, but you will have to stop teleporting for a while."

Azazel nodded.

Hank entered the room. "Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Azazel mumbled.

Charles cut in. "He's exhausted, has a headache, is nauseas and was sick a few minutes ago. I'm sorry, Azazel, but hiding your illness won't help anyone, least of all you."

Azazel's eyes focused on him, but he didn't say anything. As Hank spoke, the Russian's attention switched.

"I'm going to give you some ibuprofen to bring down your fever. Then you can go back to your room." The furry mutant explained.

 Azazel nodded, to tired to talk. Hank stirred a tablet into a glass of water. Charles helped Azazel prop himself against the headboard. Azazel took at glass and sipped it slowly, noting the slight discomfort that came with swallowing. He was one of the few people Hank had met who didn't complain about the bitter taste of the medicine.

 

Charles took the empty glass as Azazel's eyes drifted shut. "Would you like to rest a bit before we take you back to your room?" he asked.

Azazel's eyes opened and he shook his head. Charles and Hank helped him to his feet. Azazel was weak and shaky. He wrapped his tail around Charles's torso to steady himself as they made their way down the halls. Azazel was out of breath by the time they reached his room. He collapsed onto his bed, gratefull for the familiarity of it.

 "Rest for now. Try not to get out of bed. Call for Charles mentally if you need anything and someone'll come up." Hank said.

Azazel nodded.

"And don't teleport." Charles interjected. "It'll drain more strength than you have."

Azazel nodded. "I understand."

"It's your choice whether or not you have any visitors." Hank finished. "And call if you feel any worse. We can help."

Azazel nodded. "I... am tired." he murmured.

"Rest then." Charles said quietly. He closed the curtains and he and Hank left the room. Azazel watched them go before closing his eyes and letting the blackness wash over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Azazel groaned as he woke up slowly. That was unusual to him as he normally snapped awke quickly. He was just focusing his eyes when someone knocked at the door. It opened slowly and Janos came in with a tray. On it were meals for both of them, Azazel's much smaller and plainer, a glass of water and a _bell_.

"Charles told me you were awake. I brought lunch." Janos said.

"Why a _bell_?" Azazel asked croakily.

Janos shrugged, sitting in the chair at the desk by the bed. "Charles put it there. He seemed very excited by it, and Raven rather exhasperated."

Azazel nodded, sitting up and taking his plate from Janos and eating slowly. Though he was thankfully no longer feeling so nauseas, he didn't want to take chances. "Perhaps it is an American tradition. They are strange people."

Janos smiled. "Agreed."

Azazel shook his head, sighing. "I do not think I will ever understand them."

"Nor do I. You're trying to distract me. You're not eating." Janos said, looking at Azazel's plate.

Azazel shrugged. "I am not hungry. Eating is becoming difficult."

Janos stood. "I will bring soup."

Azazel's tail wrapped around his wrist. "No. Stay." then he said something in Russian. There was a desperate tone in his voice that made Janos rethink his actions. He sat back down and Azazel retracted his tail.

"I do not wish to seem needy. But..." the red mutant seemed to be drawing on very deep reserves of emotional strength. "I consider you a friend, and I have been alone a very long time."

Janos nodded. "And you are in pain." He felt Azazel's forehead again. "You no cooler."

Azazel hummed, leaning into Janos's touch. He liked the way the cooling touch felt against his heated skin. Janos removed his hand and opened a packet of tablets. He took one out and swirled it into the water. Azazel took it and sipped it slowly. "This illness is tiring." he sighed.

Janos narrowed his eyes. "Azazel..." he began slowly.

Azazel looked at him. "Yes?"

"Have you ever been ill before?"

Azazel sighed, his tail flicking thoughtfully back and fourth. "Yes, a few times, when I was very young. Once, quite seriously. Then my immune system strengthened and it never happened again."

"What kind of illness?" Janos asked.

Azazel shrugged. "I do not know."

"You weren't seen by a doctor?"

Azazel raised an eyebrow. He smiled bitterly and shook his head. "Looking like a devil? No, the only doctor who has every cared for me is Hank McCoy. Although, in answer to your earlier question, it was rather similar to this."

Janos was confused. "Rather similar to what?"

"The illness I had when I was young, the serious one. It was rather similar to this one. I don't remember much of it, the fever was high, but from what I do remember, it is similar." Azazel explained. The red mutant jerked several times. Janos put a hand on his shoulder. "Azazel?"

Azazel opened his mouth to speak but began coughing into his hand. Janos patted his back gently. When he'd got his breath back, Azazel looked at his hand almost fearfully, as though he was expecting something to be there.

"Is something wrong?" Janos asked.

Azazel shook his head and said something in Russian. Looking at Janos and realizing he couldn't understand, Azazel switched to English. "No." His voice was still hoarse.

"Will you let me get you some water?" Janos asked. Azazel nodded. The wind bender stood and refilled the glass. Azazel took a few sips before setting it down on the desk. "I am tired."

"Sleep." Janos murmured. Azazel closed his eyes, lying down, breathing evening out. Janos fixed the blankets around his shoulders, closing the curtains and leaving the room.

...............................................................................................................

 Azazel woke to a dark, empty room. There was ligh behind the curtains so he knew it hadn't been long enough for it to get dark. He could hear voices outside his room. Loud voices. His head pounded again and he couldn't help but wish that whoever was speaking to go away.

Then there was a much quieter voice and a knock at the door. It opened and let in a small sliver of light. Azazel narrowed his eyes against it. It was Angel in the doorway.

"Hey." she said quietly.

Azazel greeted her in Russian.

She came in and closed the door behind her, perching on the chair Janos had left.

"How're you feeling?" she asked.

Azazel shrugged. "Much the same."

Angel smiled. "We're hunting for soup recipes downstairs. Be prepared for Alex's horrible cooking attempts."

Azazel laughed silently.

"We may be able to switch it out for Darwin's. Darwin's really good at cooking. But Alex is sure he's found the cure to all ills." Angel said.

"I like this place." Azazel murmured.


End file.
